Danny Drinkwater. Such an excellent name for a football player – especially considering he has been found guilty of drink driving.
Maybe before ordering his 8th Babycham of the evening, young Daniel should have remembered the advice given to his great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather – Dr Augustus Gulpmead…
The story goes, that in the year 1381, following the Black Death wiping out almost half the population, everyone who survived was given a new name. Where possible, this new identity would reflect the person it was to be gifted to.
Despite being a man of medicine, Dr Gulpmead was known as the town drunk, and was often seen sozzled on mead – a popular alcopop in the 14th century. His rather unusual surname was no coincidence!
It was decided that to save the doctor’s life, the good folk of London Town must first save his liver, by halting his mead habit.
It was for that reason, Dr Gulpmead became Dr Drinkwater. He married, had children, and never touched the booze again, blah blah blah… skip forward a dozen generations and we have Danny Drinkwater.
Unlike his ancestors, Danny is not teetotal. He also doesn’t need to worry about the Black Death – although, ironically, he works alongside a number of rats at his current employer, Chelsea Football Club.
Of course, for legal reasons, I must say that the whole Dr Gulpmead and Black Death stuff is just a fictional story. All of the above is made up and never happened… apart from the bit about Danny Drinkwater getting caught over the limit – sadly, he’s a pisshead who drives and crashes cars. See, it’s on the BBC. They never lie…
With all this in mind, here are some other surnames, that I propose certain footballer players change their identities to.
- Lionel Paytaxes
- Wayne Avoidgrannies
- El-Hadj Nospit
- Cristiano Dontdive
- Rio Passtest
- Luis Mouthshut
- Diego Justsayno
- Ryan Dontsleepwithyoursisterinlaw
This is a great idea. Firstly, it would aid the billionaire clubs, financially. This is because it would force parents to buy their darling kids another shirt, because Ruud van Salah has changed his name, meaning that the printing on their previous shirt is out-of-date and effectively worthless.
Secondly, it would help footballers remember what they shouldn’t be doing, just by recalling their own name! I am sure Joe Driveslower, Alex Nosteal and Robbie Dontshagpigs (all fictional examples, in case you were wondering) will all benefit.
This blog post aged well.
Written in December 2018, I fantasized about various outcomes, come the end of the season…
Leeds to finish as Champions – ha! We couldn’t even get second place in the end. Sure Leeds are in the Play Offs, but there is more chance of me running the London Marathon, than my team getting promoted.
Liverpool to win the Premier League – While my wife, Claire, was able to enjoy her team giving their league rivals a good many more problems than Leeds did theirs, the Reds ultimately fell short – losing the title this afternoon, to that lot in Manchester. No… not Manchester United. There’s more chance of me WINNING the London Marathon, than that team winning anything.
Bath City to win the Play Offs – It was the Play Off Final this afternoon. City were supposed to be playing. Well, according to my fantasy, from five months ago, they were! City weren’t even involved. This is because they had lost to Wealdstone, in an earlier knock-out round. Wealdstone then went on to lose themselves, so didn’t get to the final either. Overall a waste of time. Oh, fiddle-sticks.
Casting my fantasies aside, I also made some actual predictions. I would say that they are scarily accurate, apart from the fact that it was flippin’ obvious I would guess correctly…
Leeds to miss out on automatic promotion and bottle the Play Offs – So far, so predictably shite. Automatic promotion is but a distant memory. Leeds are still in the Play Offs, but the brewery has the bottles all ready to… well, bottle!
Liverpool to finish second, behind Man City – All over the news. This seems to have received more coverage than 9/11. I know this blog is just adding to the hype.
Bath City to finish outside the Play Offs – Not officially a prediction, as to my friends, family and fellow supporters, I’ve been saying the opposite all season. I thought being negative about everything, would make my blog post appear better… it works for Jack Dee and Simon Cowell. City did make the Play Offs, so proved me right, but sadly fell short.
While Bath City’s season is well and truly over, and won’t play a competitive game until August; Liverpool have a small matter of a Champions League final, while Leeds remain in the Play Offs – for now!
I predict Liverpool will be victorious, with Leeds ending calamitous. These are my serious predictions, but I would be delighted to jinx things and for Leeds to go up, even if in doing so, it costs my wife’s beloved Reds – sorry, Claire!
When it was inevitably confirmed that Leeds would face Derby in the Play Offs, the spying story was resurrected…
Resurrected primarily by “journists” – if you can call them that, considering they write for The Sun, Star and Daily Heil, I mean Mail.
Calling someone a journalist, because they write reports for The Star, is the equivalent of a teenager referring to himself as a “head chef”, because he works at McDonald’s, has five stars on his name badge and heats up beef patties, in order to make a 99p hamburger.
Anyway, cue hysteria over the media-darling Frank Lampard. The England legend who won countless honours for his country. So many, that he doesn’t like to talk about them…
Always keen to make light of any situation – good or bad, hilarious or tragic * – Leeds fans wrote a song for Fat Frank.
* based upon this, don’t invite a group of intoxicated Leeds supporters to your great aunt Doris’ funeral.
So, to the tune of the Oasis classic, Stop Crying Your Heart Out…
Cos all of the spies have faded away,
Try not to worry,
You’ll beat us some day.
We beat you at home
and we beat you away.
Stop crying Frank Lampard.
The singing must have worked, as Leeds won the game 1-0.
No doubt it’ll all end in misery for Leeds fans on Wednesday, when Derby visit Elland Road, for the second leg, of these horrendous play offs…
Lampard is a ‘dead cert’ to beat Leeds and reach Wembley, so that he can face his former Chelsea Chum and all round disgusting human being, John Terry, who is currently involved with Aston Villa…
I suppose it’s better that Terry be involved with some brummie football club, than with a team mate’s girlfriend.
I found this video on Twitter. If you have an account yourself, you’ve probably seen it too, as it has been reposted in various forms, about a gazillion times.
I’m not normally one to jump on the bandwagon, when things go viral online, but thought this was rather cool.
The world-renowned train, The Flying Scotsman, was clearly doing a tour and attracted a lot of interest from railway enthusiasts, hoping to witness the famous locomotive.
This video – originally tweeted by @katharinerudden – shows one excited trainspotter, preparing to film The Flying Scotsman, as it passes their house.
All seems to be going to plan until…
On a separate note, for as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to have a train track at the rear of my garden. I am sure Claire does not share my dream, so I did not make that a requirement when choosing our new home, two years ago.
We have a lovely view from our bedroom window – hills backing directly onto open countryside, where cows often graze. I am sure many folk, who reside in large cities, would give one of their smog-filled lungs, for a view like ours.
I am grateful to live so close to Farmer Giles, his bovine livestock and the owl that occasionally hoots at night. I would be even happier to watch the 07:42 Cross Country, from Chippenham to Bristol Temple Meads, tearing past my bedroom window, at 90mph – occasionally joined by Stephenson’s Rocket, the Orient Express and the time travelling train from Back to the Future 3.
A few days ago, not long after returning home following the pug incident, I noticed a small woodlouse, crawling along our hallway floor. We often get woodlice in our new house – and no, we don’t live in a garden shed or under a stone.
The woodlouse popped straight into a small gap, under the skirting board. It was at that point, I started to worry about its well-being. I can honestly say, that this was the first time I have ever bothered with the health and safety of a woodlouse, but in this instance, I had good reason to be concerned, for the hideaway in which the creepy crawly had disappeared had previously been occupied by a huge spider.
Now if Sir David Attenborough has taught me anything, it’s that spiders are born small, they grow large, from eating bugs. Apart from the Latvian Leaf Spider, which lives off lettuce.
This woodlouse was not only committing suicide – disproving the theory that humans are the only living creature to purposely take their own life – but it was feeding my most feared of God’s creations… the arachnid.
Miraculously, the woodlouse appeared from under the skirting board. All of its legs appeared to be present and correct, there was no gaping fang wound in its back and it didn’t look at all scared. I am yet to see a woodlouse express any emotion, including fear, but if I was able to see how the woodlouse felt, I am sure he would be grinning from antennae to antennae, while singing “Zippity doo dah”.
Right… if Woody was so happy to go into the wall cavity of MY house, he can do me a favour. Woody can let me know if there really is a spider in there.
By capturing my trusty spy, I was able to attach a micro camera to his head. The camera was secured using super glue from Pound Land. This is totally humane, so you do not need to tweet Ricky Gervais, asking that he call me a c*** on social media. The glue is of such poor quality, that the camera will just fall off Woody’s noggin, painlessly, within 24 hours of it being attached.
Somebody get this brave woodlouse a George Cross
Camera on head, I sent Woody back into the depths of the wall, to see what MI5’s latest recruit and the camera could find.
Woody returned with this photo…
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
